


lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

by cronchevans



Series: saints and sinners verse [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Come Eating, Cuddling, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Kissing, M/M, Nightmares, Pet Names, Possessive Bucky Barnes, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, brief mentions of past abuse, quiet conversations in the dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-31 23:26:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13985547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cronchevans/pseuds/cronchevans
Summary: bucky really was the savior, his savior, breathed to life by holy hands, come to earth to absolve steve, taking a stripe for every sin steve had ever committed. his biggest offense of all being that he dared to love.





	lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

**Author's Note:**

> the aftermath of what happened in thou wretched boy. if that's not your cup of tea, this could function as a standalone? if you just read the tags / summary of part one, it'll make sense.

Steve was jolted awake, nearing two in the morning, by the jumping of Bucky’s chest beneath his head, a rattling sound escaping his lips. He was shaking and there was sweat on his brow, forehead furrowed. Steve slid himself out from beneath the blanket they were sharing and carefully climbed atop Bucky, one leg flung over his hips, sitting low, so as not to place any pressure on already hurting areas. He looked down at Bucky, at his trembling body and was overwhelmed with an inexplicable feeling heartache as he gazed down at him, hearing Bucky’s quiet whimpers of his name in the dark, watching his hands clench then unclench in the sheets.

 

“M’right here, Buck,” assured Steve, cradling Bucky’s face in his hands and swiping away the sweat from above his lip. “Shh, now, it’s alright. Wake up for me.”

 

Steve began to gently shake Bucky’s shoulders, trying desperately not to lose his nerve when Bucky didn’t immediately wake up. He just shook him and shook him harder still, desperately whispering into the night, begging Bucky to wake up.

 

Bucky jolted up with a start after a moment, flinging Steve from his side, gasping wildly.

 

“Bucky?” Steve whispered, his hand outstretched but unsure if he was allowed to touch, allowed to comfort.

 

Bucky swiveled his head to look back at Steve, his eyes wide and spooked. He brought his hand up to his forehead, brow wrinkled like he almost couldn’t believe where he was.

 

“I - I was…” Bucky was stammering, he couldn’t even remember the dream he’d had, what had scared him so. All he remembered was being laid in the cold, dark earth, body covered one shovel full at a time until he choked on it in the darkness. 

 

“You had a nightmare, Buck,” Steve said, still quiet, trying not to scare him anymore than he already was. Bucky didn’t say anything to that, so Steve tried again. “C’mere, lay back down with me, don’t gotta go back to sleep.”

 

Bucky nodded numbly as he let Steve rest his hands on his shoulders, gently pulling him back to rest against the pillow. Steve folded his legs and shuffled down the bed, tucking himself right back against Bucky’s shoulder, putting on skinny arm around his waist to ground him. To let him know that everything was alright now.

 

For a while, they laid in the quiet night, Bucky occupying his frightened mind by counting the rays of moonlight drifting through the window and listening to Steve’s breathing; that was just habit anyway, couldn’t let him die in the night. But soon enough, Bucky was restless in his mind, beginning to fidget slightly. He didn’t want to have to think about everywhere it hurt, everywhere that medicine couldn’t fix the hurt. He wanted, he needed -

 

“Steve,” Bucky croaked, clearing his throat to try again. “Steve can you...can you talk to me, please?”

 

Steve heard the underlying fear in Bucky’s voice; whatever had slithered into his sleep had really scared him. He knew what Bucky was asking for in so many words. He was asking for Steve’s help, Steve’s protection. 

 

“Sure, Buck,” he said, squeezing his arm tighter around Bucky’s middle.

 

It took a while for him to come up with something to talk about, not wanting to upset Bucky any further. He talked about the job he had picked up last week painting storefront signs, but was then fired from for being ill. He talked about the time they went to the beach when they were just kids and a crab bit Bucky’s toe; he laughed at how Bucky had hopped around, screaming for someone to get it off. Bucky snorted at that, so at least Steve felt like he was doing right. There was a short silence before Steve started talking about some art that he really liked. Names like Duccio, Raphael, Poussin, reverberated off the walls, filling the darkness, calming Bucky’s mind.

 

“You looked like Pieta in your ma’s arms like that,” Steve whispered into the dark after the Renaissance rolled back around and off his tongue.

 

“Piet - what?” rasped Bucky.

 

“Michelangelo, dumbass,” Steve groused, poking Bucky in his side, albeit lightly, to which Bucky chuckled. “The virgin holding her dead son in her lap. S’over in Italy, somewhere I think. Always wanted to see somethin’ made to be pretty like that.” A somber silence followed and Bucky tensed all over; Bucky knew exactly what Steve was thinking. Thinking that he wasn’t beautiful, thinking he had ruined the calm, thinking that he wasn’t  _ enough _ . Even with all they had gone through, leading up to here and now, Steve still couldn’t see himself like Bucky did. None of that was true.

 

“Ain’t never seen nothin’ as pretty as you, Steve. I swear it. But me?” Bucky shook his head bitterly. “Ya thought I looked  _ pretty _ bleedin’ out on your bedroom floor? I ain’t a masterpiece, Steve. Wasn’t made by loving, sculptors hands. Just look at me.”

 

Steve brought his hand from Bucky’s chest, up to his chin, gently cradling it in his fingertips. He turned Bucky’s head to face him, eyes blue and shining in the moonlight. Steve leaned forward and placed a tender kiss to the cleft in Bucky’s chin, mouthing at it.

 

“I am lookin’ at ya,” Steve breathed out against Bucky’s skin. “Ya always looked like a masterpiece to me. Everyone -” Steve paused, struck by an unusual feeling of jealousy. Jealousy at everyone looking at, thinking they could have what was his. The feeling dwindled down to a sad pile of embers within him as he said, “Everyone thinks you’re pretty, Buck.” 

 

“Everyone ain’t you,” Bucky huffed with a shake of his head as he tried to turn away from Steve, tried to hide his feelings of inadequacy that he never showed to anyone. It didn’t matter what everyone else thought of him, but  _ god  _ what Steve thought of him meant  _ everything _ . Bucky didn’t realize he was releasing small hurt noises, shoulders shaking, didn’t realize he was caving in on himself. But Steve, ever the angel he was, wouldn’t let him. He just shushed Bucky gently, brushing his fingertips down Bucky’s neck, moving forward to leave open mouthed kisses along Bucky’s jaw.

 

“Beautiful,” Steve murmured with such reverence that Bucky’s breath got caught in his chest.

 

“Steve, please,” Bucky choked out. What he was asking for, even he didn’t know.

 

Steve didn’t stop. He shifted his body closer to Bucky’s side, throwing his right leg over Bucky’s, his little cock bumping against the meat of Bucky’s thigh.

 

“So beautiful -  _ pretty - _ Bucky,” Steve whimpered as he laved at the hinge of Bucky’s jaw, the line of his neck. “Wanted you to - mmn,  _ auh -  _ to fuck me. Wanted you to stick it in me.”

 

“Steve,” Bucky warned, gripping Steve to him by the small of his back despite himself. “Don’t do that,” he begged, bereft because he couldn’t give his Stevie what he wanted, what he needed.

 

Steve nibbled down Bucky’s collarbone, tongue sweeping over his kittenish marks.

 

“Won’t do nothin’,” he promised. “Don’t wanna hurt you, not ever, never, Buck. But p-please - please lemme have this. You’re all I go, please don’t take it from me,  _ please - _ ”

 

Bucky hushed him gently, pulling Steve flush to his side, ribs be damned; it was his turn to take care of Steve now, to chase away his anxieties. The way Steve was undulating against him, the way he was huffing in short breaths onto Bucky’s skin was so desperate, so innocent and sweet, the way he was chasing his orgasm - Bucky would have dubbed himself mad to tear himself away from this.

 

“S’alright, baby, it’s alright, ain’t gonna take it from you,” Bucky said quietly, lips pressing to the top of Steve’s hair. “Don’t get yourself worked up.”

 

“Bucky, B-Bucky,” Steve whimpered deliriously; Bucky felt hot tears dripping down his neck.

 

“Shh, shh, breathe, sweet thing. Alright, it’s all alright,” encouraged Bucky, giving Steve hard and chaste kisses. “Rub off on me, go on and make a mess, I’m here, it’s okay.”

 

Steve gasped high in his throat, his hips stuttering out of rhythm. Simultaneously, Steve arched against Bucky’s thigh and came; Bucky felt Steve’s cock twitch and spurt, warm against him. 

 

“Oh god,” Steve cried, going slack, breathing heavily as he sank into Bucky’s embrace. “Thank you,  _ god  _ thank you.”

 

He picked his head up to press his mouth to Bucky’s, sloppy and wet and happy, sighing into the kiss. They continued to swap gentle kisses for a while. Steve’s had laid on Bucky’s abdomen, tracing patterns there, slowing moving his hand to trace lower and lower. Steve’s deft fingers inched down to cup Bucky’s cock; he smirked into their kiss when he felt it jump in his hand. Bucky’s hand followed Steve’s own and settled on his bird bone thin wrist, not stopping, but hesitant.

 

Steve didn’t even open his eyes, didn’t pull away as he whispered against Bucky’s mouth, “Let me give it to you, Buck. I won’t if you don’t want, but I wanna, please. Lemme make it feel good.”

 

Bucky hiccuped over a moan as Steve rubbed his hand more firmly over the front of Bucky’s underwear, continuing to pant along Bucky’s neck. Steve reveled in the feeling of Bucky growing hard beneath his ministrations. The room was silent, the only sounds were the gasps made by the two of them. Something about the noise of their coupling in the silence made Bucky throb under Steve’s hand. He wanted to roll his hips into the touch, but the aches in his body protested.

 

“Steve,” Bucky exhaled high in his throat. “Stevie - ah  _ ah _ , I can’t -”

 

Steve hushed him sweetly between searing kisses from his pink mouth. He wordlessly slipped nimble fingers beneath the waistband of Bucky’s shorts. Steve had seen Bucky’s cock before, but never had he ever held it, been so intimate with it. It was hot in his hand, pulsing in is loose grip. Steve moved from being tucked into the crook of Bucky’s neck to look up to catch Bucky’s expression. His brows were furrowed, his mouth parted with quiet pleasure. Steve wanted to lurch up and claim that pretty mouth, to love him hard one moment, then tender the next. He wanted to run his tongue over the budding scab forming in the wake of Bucky’s split lip and worship every bruise taken on his behalf. Bucky really was the savior,  _ his _ savior, breathed to life by holy hands, come to earth to absolve Steve, taking a stripe for every sin Steve had ever committed. His biggest offense of all being that he dared to  _ love _ .

 

Steve laid himself back down to Bucky’s side, pressing a coy finger to the tip of Bucky’s cock, right on the slit. Bucky’s whole body jerked; Steve’s mouth watered.

 

“You’re wet, Buck,” Steve breathed out softly. “So wet, just for me. Ain’t that somethin’.”

 

Bucky didn’t miss the awe in Steve’s voice, nor the way his fingers so deftly showed his sense of wonder. Maybe Steve really did think he was pretty. Bucky was rendered speechless, couldn’t do anything but sob at the sound of Steve’s voice.

 

“Wish I could see it,” lamented Steve quietly, swirling the fluid around the tip. “Wish I could taste it.”

 

Bucky’s hips spasmed, pushing a gasp from him, more pleasure than pain, his chest heaving. “Oh god, Stevie,  _ Stevie,  _ you gotta move, please. M’so close, Stevie, gonna come -”

 

“Go on, Buck,” Steve encouraged, looking up from beneath his fanned out lashes as he spread more precome down Bucky’s length and stroked him in earnest. “Want it, please, lemme have it - make you feel so good.”

 

Bucky pushed his hips up into Steve’s fist as much as could be allowed, meeting him slide after slide. He could feel the warmth pooling in his belly as Steve pulled him closer to the edge. Between the click sounds filling the room and the way Steve was moaning like he was working his own body, it had Bucky seeing stars. He opened his mouth into a wordless shout, breath caught in his throat while he spilled over Steve’s hand. It felt like he couldn’t stop, even after there was nothing left to give. His legs were shaking with aftershocks; Steve worked him through it, fingers squeezing just right to give Bucky what he needed. He didn’t let go until Bucky went lax, sinking back into the mattress.

 

Bucky shivered when Steve hand released him with one long pull, taking his release with him. Bucky faintly wondered if Steve would wipe it on his shorts, opting for convenience over comfort; he was sorely mistaken. He cracked his eyes open, head lolling to the right and was met with the most sinful sight - Steve licking his palm, licking Bucky’s  _ come  _ right out of his hand. Bucky nearly had a stroke. Steve, the filthy, sweet little thing, had his eyes closed and was humming contentedly. He gave Bucky a sly, half lidded look from the corners of his eyes - the punk knew Bucky was looking - before dipping a finger in his mouth, little pink tongue darting out to catch the white stickiness that had dripped down between his fingers. Bucky’s cock throbbed in interest and he swore he would give anything if he could just get it up again.  _ God,  _ the sight Steve made, the  _ sounds,  _ christ, his baby was hungry for it.

 

“Tastes good, Buck,” Steve said lowly around the, now three, fingers in his mouth. He hollowed his cheeks briefly before he languidly slid the digits from past his lips with a pop, glazed eyes following string of spit trailing form them. Steve stared at the string with hazed out eyes, then fixed his sultry gaze on Bucky, who still hadn’t managed to close his mouth, as he said, “You wanna taste?”

 

And  _ christ,  _ Bucky was struck dumb, couldn’t even bring himself to nod. Steve wet his lips first, then brought his fingers up to Bucky’s mouth, smearing the mixture of spit and spunk across that pout like a gloss, paying extra care to coat the split in Bucky’s lip. Bucky kissed Steve’s fingertips, each one chaste and sweet. And it was enough to break Steve’s concentrated stare, fixing wide blue eyes on Bucky. Now it was Bucky’s turn to tease, turning a look on Steve that made near any dame drop her knickers for him. And judging from the blush high on Steve’s cheeks, well, Bucky had a sure feeling it was working.

 

“Want you to kiss me, Stevie. Baby,” Bucky murmured as he gently bit the pad of Steve’s index finger.

 

Bucky wasn’t sure if it was his words or his actions that spurred Steve, but either way, it had plush, pink lips on his within an instant. Steve molded himself to Bucky’s body, their legs tangled, Steve’s hand wrapped in the fine hairs at the base of Bucky’s neck.

 

“God, how did i ever live without this,” Bucky mused breathlessly, stupified by the mere idea, as he pushed his chest to Steve’s. “How could he - he tried to, to take you from me. Tried to take you -”

 

The rest of Bucky’s sentence was dropped with a distraught whimper, feeling as though his heart was being torn from him. 

 

“S’okay, Bucky,” Steve soothed, nipping and biting at his mouth, stroking down the back of Bucky’s neck. “I’m here, it’s alright, ain’t gonna leave ya.”

 

But Bucky wasn’t comforted. Steve wasn’t close enough, wasn’t touching him enough. Panic built behind his ribs, pushing and ripping, at the notion of his father’s hands on Steve. Not gentle like his hand, not loving like his hands, but rough and large and holding malicious intent tight in closed fists. Another distressed noise fell from Bucky’s mouth.

 

“He tried to hurt you, was gonna take you - take you from me, take what’s mine,” and Bucky was practiclaly growling now, madly possessive. Steve wasn’t  _ close _ enough. “Come here, baby, my sweet baby,” he said, putting his hands on Steve’s little hips.

 

Steve wriggled against him, caught between chasing their kiss and pulling away. “Bucky, Bucky wait, I can’t, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

 

Bucky shook his head, leave it to Steve to be stubborn about it, before he lifted Steve onto his lap like he weighed close to nothing; Bucky had lifted heavier crates down at the docks, god his baby was so small. Steve’s little body on his wasn’t pleasant on his ribs, but he wanted it,  _ needed it, _ more than anything.

 

“Need you here, Stevie,  _ christ,  _ need you - want you in my fucking  _ bones _ , baby.”

 

Bucky knew he was babbling, but he couldn’t be brought to give a damn. Steve gasped high in his throat, coupled by a groan from Bucky, when his now hardening cock brushed against Steve’s ass.

 

“Buck, I can’t - won’t be able to get it up again,” Steve cried, shoulders hunched up around his ears like he was embarrased. A blush spread across Steve’s cheeks, visible even in the moonlight. Bucky saw his bottom lip quiver, and no, Bucky couldn’t abide by that, couldn’t let his baby feel like he wasn’t enough, wasn’t good enough because  _ oh, he was. _

 

“Don’t you worry, honey,” Bucky replied, moving to kiss as Steve’s neck, pulling him down so that their chests were touching. “All I need is you, right here, we can stay just like this, sweetheart. You’re so good, so pretty.”

 

Steve whined, attempting to shake away from Bucky’s grip, but Bucky wouldn’t have it. He placed one last deep, hard kiss to Steve’s mouth before running his hand through Steve’s hair and shifting him down, tucked into his neck once again.

 

“I love you,” said Bucky, soft and low, for Steve to hear only.

 

Steve placed his right hand over Bucky’s heart. Bucky could feel Steve’s breath on his throat; Steve was alive. Alive with him, breathing for each other.

 

“I love you,” Steve whispered back, like it was the simplest thing in the world. They had always been  _ steveandbucky,  _ attached at the hip, never one without the other.

 

Steve nuzzled closer to Bucky and Bucky held him all the tighter for it.  _ I’ll never let anything touch you _ , Bucky silently vowed. He didn’t know that Steve was vowing the very same thing. They drifted off together and silence blanketed the night again.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on tumblr @glitterprincee while we've still got the time


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